


I Know What I Was, What I Am

by faithfulcynic



Category: Dark Matter (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 05:46:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5363636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithfulcynic/pseuds/faithfulcynic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"He’s not going to sugar coat the truth, even from himself, because when he had learned that he was a murderer, a kidnapper, <i>and</i> a pirate, Three hadn’t been surprised. Disappointed, sure, but not surprised." </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know What I Was, What I Am

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meridian_rose (meridianrose)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, meridian_rose! I tried to get a little of everything you talked about - hope you enjoy! :)

He's not usually one for introspection, or at least he doesn't think he is. But more often than not, Three finds himself alone in his room, telling himself he just needs time apart from the others - to unwind, to relax ... hell, time to think up new ways to make fun of One - but knowing that what he really wants is just a quiet space to sort through everything he's learned about their past. There are clues to piece together here, like the world's most shittiest puzzle, if he can only make them fit. 

He tries to not think about –

"What?" Three finally snaps. 

She’s been watching from the doorway for the last five minutes, squinting her eyes in a way that makes her look like a constipated toddler. It’s not that he doesn’t like the kid - he does, even if she’s a complete brat – but kids aren’t tough enough for space, no what color they dye their hair, and he doesn’t like being stared at.

Five’s brow unfurls and suddenly it’s all puzzlement and wide-eyed innocence. "Nothing," she says. 

An annoying brat, he amends, who can’t lie worth a damn. Three at least can lie like a champ and chances are, before this is all over, he’s going to have to teach her how. 

But not today. 

"Spit it out, kid," he says, returning his attention back to the gun he’s cleaning. The kid hesitates though and Three almost sighs. He’s 99% sure he isn’t going to like whatever is about to come out of her mouth next and sure enough -

"I think I dreamed one of your memories last night."

Five pauses and he throws her an irritated look. “I was outside,” she continues. “Chopping wood. The sun was just starting to set and the air was chilly, but not too cold. Or at least I didn’t mind. I liked being outside, smelling the woods, being in … I don’t know. Nature?”

She winces and he doesn’t blame her. There is something to be said about a breath of fresh air after being locked up in a metal can for several months, but beyond that … yeah, he doesn’t give two shits about nature.

And yet -

“Doesn’t sound like me,” he says, firmly pushing those thoughts away.

“No,” she agrees, “but it doesn’t fit with what I’ve seen with the others either. I first thought it might be One’s memory because he once lived on a farm –“

Three snorts.

"But that was when he was younger. And then I heard …”

The kid trails off and he understands. There’s a special kind of drop off in speech patterns that people do when they start to talk about the recently dead; Five has seen Sarah in her dream. 

“I know … I mean I _thought_ you’d had doubts about her,” Five says. “So, um, I just wanted you to know that Sarah was telling the truth.”

Three puts down his gun. “About my knowing her – sure.” 

“But-“

He sighs. “It was probably a cover, kid. Cozy up until I got healed - you know how it goes."

"Uh … not really."

"Right. Well, what I mean is that I used her. Simple as that.”

“That’s not what it looked like to me,” she says doubtfully.

He gives her a look that is half exasperation and half pity. “Of the two options – me settling down to play house in the woods and me waiting to get the hell out of dodge – which do you think is more likely? You know what I am.”

The kid says nothing and it stings but, whatever. He’s not going to sugar coat the truth, even from himself, because when he had learned that he was a murderer, a kidnapper, _and_ a pirate, Three hadn’t been surprised. Disappointed, sure, but not surprised. 

“Anyway,” he says, picking up his gun again. “Thanks for the share. Bring some alcohol next time and it will really be a party."

She nods glumly and he rolls his eyes. Between the two of them, Five and One are going to have a collective aneurism one day by trying to find the good in everyone and everything. “Cheer up, kid,” he jokes when she reaches the door. “At least I didn’t try to shoot up the cabin or anything. That’s a start, right?”

This time Five gives him the look that is almost pity. “It’s hard to see the first option as true, but I think anything’s possible. Even for you.”

The kid leaves and Three shakes his head at the door and says nothing. It’s possible, sure, but is it likely?

Maybe. But he doubts it.

***

He hears the knock on his door and knows that it’s One. How he knows for sure he can’t be certain but there’s something about it – a kind of confident but impatient rapping that just screams One. Three can picture the man practicing on his walls at night, telling himself to be assertive but not too demanding, open, but not a doormat.

Honestly, he doesn’t know what Two sees in the guy. 

“It’s open,” Three says.

One walks in, eyes targeting on him, and Three thinks ‘finally’. Whatever has been bugging him is _finally_ going to be out in the open. Because One used to look at Three like he was just some lowlife thug he had to tolerate, but lately the look in his eyes has been harder, colder. It makes Three want to grab for his gun more often than not. 

Like now. 

It’s funny. After they had first woken up, Three’s instincts had been to trust Six, to distrust Two and Four, and think One and Five were going to be a major pain in his ass. And look where they are now – Six is a traitor, he (mostly) trusts Two and Four, Five is still a pain in the ass, and One is looking more and more like the person who will murder the shit out of him one day. 

Funnier still because out of all of them, One was the person Three had pegged as completely incapable of such a thing and that included the damn kid.

Three is mostly ready for their confrontation, but it also bothers him. First, because he doesn’t know what he’s done to cause it and, second, because he knows now not to piss off Two any more than necessary. 

But it appears that One has changed his mind again. He deliberately unclenches his jaw and blinks away the hatred in his eyes. Three relaxes slightly, but still makes damn sure his guns are within reach. 

“We’ve been trying to reach you for the past twenty minutes,” One says, in a voice that is trying for measured but just comes off as pissy. 

Three shrugs. “Needed a time out.”

“We’re running from the Galactic Authority,” One grits out, “there are no time outs.” He exhales through his nose and Three would laugh at him if he didn’t think it might set the man off again. “Two wants everyone on the bridge to discuss our next move.”

Three takes that to mean that the others have come up with two different plans and he is the guy lucky enough to be the swing vote. He bets breakfast that whatever side he chooses will not be the side that One is on. 

“I’ll be up there in a few minutes, okay?” Three says. 

One looks like he wants to say something but pinches his lips shut and turns away. 

And Three is all about self-preservation because his life is literally all that he has left, but sometimes his curiosity does get the better of him. He has to know. 

“What is it?” he explodes. “Are you still pissed I thought you were the traitor? Is this about Two? Did I break one of your impossible little moral codes? _What!?_ ”

One pauses, but then keeps going, apparently determined to ignore Three and walk away, and _that_ just pisses him off. One’s always thought the worst of him and even if he is right, there’s also a possibility that he isn’t. 

Because Sarah had said - 

“You don’t know anything about me,” Three snarls. “None of you do. You’re just as clueless as the rest of us, so don’t pretend otherwise.”

One turns, his eyes widening then narrowing. He takes a step forward and Three feels his hand start to move to his gun. But then One stops and locks his legs into place and his face melts into more than his usual disdain. It’s disgust. 

“I know what you are,” he says.

Before Three can reply, One turns his back on him again. “Five minutes.”

“I said I would be,” Three mutters. 

He grabs for his gun, not because he has any thought of shooting One but because he finds he is comforted by the solid weight in his hand. Despite what One might think, Three isn’t the type of person to shoot an asshole in the back just for disagreeing with him. Despite everything he knows about himself, and what they think they know about him, he isn’t the kind of person that would do that.

He isn’t.

****

The thing is that he tries not think about Sarah but his thoughts always seem to circle back to her.

Three doesn't want them to; reliving failure, well, that's a surefire way to make yourself go to crazy. But it's not just knowing that he didn't save her, it's knowing that he tried saving her at all. It doesn't fit. Three had meant what he'd told her - it didn't sound like him. He knows who he was, what he is, and a bleeding heart isn’t it.

Even if she had saved his life. Even if they had fallen -

He doesn't believe it. 

Not that Sarah would have had any reason to lie but ... no, Three doesn't believe it. Can't believe it. 

And yet ... he still remembers the drop in his stomach when he'd learned that Sarah was dying, the impatience he'd felt when he'd said to pull her out of the box in the first place. He remembers the urge he'd felt to see what was behind the big damn mystery door and how that urge had started to grow into something a bit more desperate - how he'd needed to see what was in there. 

He remembers a moment with Two where it would have been enough to hold her body against his, to breathe in the scent of her hair, and just ... rest.

Thank God that particular moment had passed. 

But still, if some part of him had known Sarah, had felt anything for her - and what they'd had was real - then maybe ... maybe what she'd said -

"Pardon me."

Three jumps, then scowls. Only the robot can get the jump on him like that. It was how she'd surprised him the first time.

The first time. His scowl deepens. Of course, he hadn't meant to activate her, but he'd been drawn to that stasis pod too. And the touch of the metal had felt almost familiar ...

It always came back to Sarah.

"Crap," he says.

"I'm sorry," the robot says. "I didn't mean to startle you. My stealth subroutines are very efficient."

"No kidding," Three snaps. She opens her mouth to speak but he huffs a sigh of annoyance - with her, with himself, and the universe- and shakes his head. "No - wait. I'm ... sorry."

"There is no need to apologize," she replies. "I was the one who startled you."

"No, not for that, although wear a bell or something, would ya? I meant, when I found you before ... I think a part of me thought I'd found Sarah." 

Just admitting that out loud makes him cringe. Trusting your gut in a fight, in a life or death situation is one thing, but trusting some subconscious impulse to seek out your iced girlfriend is another.

But it didn't make it any less true. 

"And then you kicked the crap out of me," he says. "And I took it a bit personally so, yeah, sorry. For being an ass."

The robot blinks, rights her head from the half tilt she's had it at the whole time he was babbling like an idiot, and blinks again. "I have no memory of such an attack. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes."

With that, she leaves. Three gapes at her for a moment.

"You'll never get me to admit that to anyone!" he calls after her.

Three scowls again, picks up the closest gun at hand, and starts to clean it again. Sarah _is_ a piece of the puzzle whether he likes it or not. Somehow, she fits. 

"You're a good man, Marcus," she had said. 

He doesn't believe it. Can't believe it. And yet ... Sarah had thought it was true. And if what they'd had was real, then maybe ...

Maybe.


End file.
